I have no strong opinion about astrology. Maybe the stars and planets and shit have an influence on us, maybe they don’t. I’m open to pretty much anything but astrology just ain’t one of my soapboxes so, whatever. I will say, to paraphrase Garrett Morris, that September has NOT been berry berry good to me. Make of that what you will.

Last week I had to drive way out into the deep burbs for a background check (working on another post about that). A pleasure/pain sort of thing. The pleasure of getting something I wanted against the pain of having to drive that far to get it, not to mention ending up in the deep burbs – which always give me the heeby-jeebies – to boot.

Then, today, trying to connect up with a Tele-Health session because my asthma is kicking up, AGAIN, and I needed some meds to calm its ass down. Damn Michigan humidity. Damn Michigan pollen. Damn Michigan pollution. And failing miserably. We’ve been going round and round over this asthma thing for over a year now. What is it with doctors today? They won’t talk to you. They won’t listen to you. All they want to do is shove Big Pharma at ya. Henry Ford Health System used to be really good when I first started with them. They’ve kinda gone down the old tubes, IMHO.

Anyway, technical difficulties kept us from connecting so no meds for me. Despite this failure, time marches on and the Doggo’s Daytimer alarm goes off signaling that it’s time to go out for the evening snifforama. That I am coughing my brains out and sucking on my inhaler like a junky after a fix doesn’t faze them a bit. When it’s time to go out it’s time to go out. Period. So, training collars on, we pile into the Dogcar and off we go.

The evening walk is the one time when I have 5 at once (the Duo don’t get an evening walk – yet), 4 loose, Jessie on a long, super strong leash. There are, of course, deer in the park. It is evening after all. Bummer and Cooper do chase after the deer, a futile act to be sure as they will never catch them. Deer chasing is the one scenario for which the training collar is useless. They just ignore the shock and keep running. With Jessie tugging on the leash trying to face-plant me, I manage to call B&C back but, my attention on them, Biscuit had spotted another deer and gone after it, something that rarely happens as he has reached senior dogizen status and, in dog years, is about as old as I am and I stopped chasing deer a long time ago. I spot him disappear in a copse and moments later hear a yelp which scares the bejesus out of me. I gather the remaining flock and head back to the Dogcar, load them in and take off in search of Biscuit.

It’s getting dark and I’m fumbling about in the copse, coughing my brains out, sucking on my inhaler, screaming for Biscuit. I finally emerge and there, sauntering down the path without a care is Biscuit, seemingly unharmed. I am scared. I am angry. I walk over to him, kneel down, wrap my arms around him in a big hug, give him a kiss on the forehead and, very softly, call him a fuckhead and how scared it made me and how relieved I am that he’s back and okay and he had better never ever do that again or I’d kick his sorry ass so hard his ancestors would welp. Not that I ever would, he knows that, but it makes me feel good to say it as I hug him harder.

Into the Dogcar he goes, no doubt relating his grand adventure to the others. I head home and find … I’ve lost my inhaler. My brand new, nearly full inhaler. It’s too dark to go look for it and I probably wouldn’t find it anyway so I call the pharmacy, have a hassle with them about refilling it but manage to get them to do it. It’s too late to get it tonight but luckily I have a back-up with a few puffs. Tomorrow I’ll have to hassle with my PA (I never actually see a doctor) about getting another refill. They’ll only give them to me 2 at a time which sucks. I mean, the only way I am ever NOT going to need them is when they bury my skinny ass in my mushroom box so why not make them endlessly refillable? Big Medicine sucks.

So here I am, in the middle of the bloody night, coughing my brains out, a near empty inhaler in hand and writing this stupid post. Girly is on prednisone for her skin condition so, push comes to shove, I’ll take one of hers to get me through the night if need be.

Retrograde indeed. So, how was your Tuesday?